Fly With Me

There’s a knock on my door. It’s Sunday after church, a quiet day for all of us. I’m lying on my bed, staring up at the turning fan. It’s not a hot day, so I don’t know why it’s even on- but I don’t really care. My eyes slowly turn from the ceiling towards the door as it proceeds, slowly, to open and reveal Nick’s curls crowning his beautiful face.

“Hey,” he whispers just loud enough for me to hear. “Are you okay?”

Such a vague question. Okay, meaning what? I sigh and return to staring at the ceiling fan. “I guess.” My words feel so empty in this big space. But is there anything big enough to say, to fill up that and the silence? I don’t know.

He takes that as his invitation to come in, carefully closing the door of course, and slowly sinks onto my bed with me to watch the ceiling fan turn, turn, and turn some more. I can feel his presence, and I can see his curls from the corner of my eye. And from the corner of my heart, I feel tempted to take his hand, but I do my best to suppress the feeling.

“You’re unhappy.” He breathes the words like wind, and I feel him turning slightly to gaze at me. I don’t look, however, still entranced with the turning and turning. “Why?”

His question forces me to provide an answer. “I…” I ponder about lying, but I figure that probably just won’t work. Sighing, I close my eyes for a moment and reopent them, seeing that Nick’s on his side to look at me better, and waiting with a concerned expression, being a good listener as he is. “I’m messing everything up,” I mumble, slowly slipping onto my side also.

My fingers trace absent patterns on my blankets as I continue slowly, trying to find a way to express my tangled emotions. “I know my mother hasn’t changed, and that hurts. And it hurts a lot because… because I’m tearing apart this family, too. And it’s my fault. I- no one else should have to deal with my problems. If I knew going back to her would fix everything, then I would.”

“But it won’t fix everything,” Nick says quickly, grabbing hold of my hand to still it, catching onto my eyes with an intense focus. “You can’t go back to her, C. That would be foolish and- and dangerous.”

I let my hand fall limp in his, biting my lip. “I know,” I mumble guiltily. “It just- it seems like there’s no… there’s no way to escape this madness, I guess. I feel trapped, you know?”

“I know,” he nods, and slowly pulls us both into a sitting position. “And trust me on this, Cicily, my family wouldn’t be doing any of this if they didn’t want to. We all want to help you. You mean to much to us- to me,” he adds, and brings me into a tight hug. “I couldn’t let you go back to her. I love you too much,” he continues quietly.

Closing my eyes, I return the tight hug comfortingly, because he always knows just what to say to make everything better. I swallow down the lump and lay in his arms as we lean back onto the pillows.

It’s late Sunday, and the family is spilled around in the living room, reading, playing games, and fiddling with music instruments. Denise just likes the feel of everyone being around, and so that’s what we do on Sundays- just stick around each other. Sometimes it’s quiet and calm- while other times, like now, it’s a little wild.

“Dude, that was crap.”

“Cheater!”

“No!”

“I didn’t- that was illegal!”

“Your face!”

I laugh at Joe and Frankie who are arguing. Nick’s next to me, his legs across mine as he fiddles with an old guitar. For some reason, he likes me rubbing his ankles now and then and since he already gave me a foot rub, I might as well return the favor, right? At least he’s wearing jeans, I suppose…

“You guys, it’s just a game,” Nick says calmly, eyeing them.

Watching them fight, I wear an absent smile and play with the deck of cards, shuffling them again. Of course, everyone hates the way I shuffle- apparently, it’s the wrong way. But seeing as no one ever really taught me, I just do what I can, I suppose.

“We could play without them,” I smirk to Nick.

“We should,” he smiles simply back at me.

“No!” The two boys protest and pout at us before smiling in earnest.

Laughing, I shake my head. “You two are crazy, but now you need to behave, understand?” I eye them critically and they offer an ironic salute to which I roll my eyes and start dealing out the cards.

“Ha,” Joe announces ten minutes later, in the lead. “Nick, your turn.”

Nick had put aside the guitar which is now in my lap, and he’d been shuffling with his phone just as it starts ringing with an unfamiliar ringtone. “Huh?” He glances up from his phone. “No, wait- uh… Cic, go for me?” He smiles and hurriedly stands to go take his call.

I start to nod but he’s already heading off. “Okay, then…” I mutter, grabbing his cards.

“Miley, hey! No, I got time, it’s great to hear your voice…” Nick trails off as he continues walking away, into the hall, taking a phone call when we aren’t allowed to do so when it gets this late on the weekend. His dad calls for Nick, but he’s ignored.

For some reason it really hurts, which just confuses me and I look up to Joe, trying to find out if maybe he knows. But he just shrugs helplessly, grabs Nick’s cards, and throws them behind him. “Your turn,” he decides with a smirk.

But it might be my turn in something else, I can’t help but consider as I pick up my own cards, trying to figure out how to win as I also try to think about what to say to Nick.